When I'm Gone
by Zane's Girl- Jo
Summary: She'd asked him to come- simply uttering one simple phrase, and leaving a video with a cup and a note on his desk. Disregards Season Five after Friendly Fire.
1. Two Bottle of Whiskey For the Way

**When I'm Gone**

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

**Summary: She'd asked him to come- simply uttering one simple phrase, and leaving a video with a cup and a note on his desk. Disregards Season Five after _Friendly Fire_. **

She looked up. Her eyes were playing tricks on her. This was the forth time she thought she'd seen Zane. She shook her head.

No, he was back in Eureka.

The conductor called boarding time, and she gave him the ticket. Why had she picked the train again?

Oh yeah, because her recent fear of aircraft involved a missing spaceship, Beverly Barlow, her Consortum, and her boyfriend. So why was she leaving again?

_Because you don't belong there anymore._

As she settled in her seat, she thought back on the relief that had been on Zane's face, in his eyes, when they'd been found. Their reunion had been sweet and gentle that night, and it had been so... right, being wrapped in his arms, curled in his bed. As the train started to pull out of the station, she heard her cell ring; one quick glance told her it was Fargo, probably demanding why she'd handed in her resignation and packed up, leaving her second-in-command, Rowely, in charge. She turned the phone off and dropped it in her bag.

Global was no longer a part of her life. Nor were Fargo, or Henry, or Grace or Allison or Carter...

_Or Zane._

She blinked, keeping the tears at bay. This was ridiculous, she wasn't crying over a man who obviously had chosen to stay in the small Oregon town. Who's career was more important than the woman he claimed to love. No, she would_ not_ cry over him.

When the stewardess passed by, she grabbed her arm. "Um... a bottle of whiskey. And a... in a plastic cup. Please?"

The woman nodded, at the distraught look on her face. When she returned, she took a seat next to her, reaching out to lay a hand on her arm. "Problems?" Jo looked up; she was an older woman, maybe in her late forties, with beautiful chocolate skin and dark hair. A moment passed, before Jo slowly nodded.

"Something like that."

The woman watched her for several minutes, before, "It'll get better, dear. One way or another, it'll get better." She patted Jo's arm, before getting up and continuing on. Jo watched her go, before taking a sip of the alcohol.

"No it won't. Not when the man you love didn't say anything. It never gets better; I know."

She turned to watching out the window, again, lost in thought. When she looked up, her empty whiskey bottle had been removed, and in its place sat a fresh one, waiting for her to open it.

* * *

The plastic flashed in the dim light. She lay on the bed, in the room of the small bed and breakfast she was staying in. A fire was lit in the fireplace, and even with a pair of sweats and a sweater, she was still cold- the child of the Maine air sweeping through her clothing to bite at her skin.

She'd never been so lonely.

Her head turned; a whiskey bottle sat on the nightstand, new and unopened. Instead of reaching for it, she turned her gaze back to the cup. She'd never taken to whiskey before, yet somehow, for some reason, it was the perfect comfort for her on this cold Maine night. Maybe it was the cup and the song that caused her heart to clench in hurt- the bittersweet meaning behind the lyrics, or the realization that he hadn't said anything.

Hadn't come along.

Hadn't even told her goodbye.

Although, that last was on her part, because she'd fled at eight o'clock- when everyone else at Global was already at work.

Either way, he hadn't responded, and she would never see him again.

She curled up on her side, holding the cup to her chest, as the tears began to fall. The fire crackled in the grate, and she choked out a sob. Minutes passed, before she sat up and grabbed the bottle, preferring to drown her sorrows in alcohol than hear her heart break.


	2. It Sure Would Be Prettier With You

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

The door slid shut behind him; he made his way down the steps into his office, running through the things on his tablet. He hadn't seen Jo at Cafe Diem, and when he'd run into Rowely, she'd clamped up, rushing off. Fargo was in a snit, and Carter... well, Carter was just confused. Nothing unusual there. But when he asked, even Henry, Allison and Grace had no idea where she was. Eventually, he figured she was avoiding him, and so decided on giving her the space she desired.

He looked up. That... didn't look right. Something was off.

Slowly, he made his way towards his desk. It was bare, completely cleaned off of papers and pens, with the exception of a cup and a small piece of paper.

As he took a seat, he recognized Jo's familiar scroll- so she'd been here, the night before. And... come to think of it, he'd seen her the night before, but they'd hardly spoken. She'd asked him something, but he was so tied up in work, that he hadn't been paying attention. When he'd looked up last, she'd disappeared.

What had she asked last night that had seemed so important?

He pulled the paper closer- it was a note, but the cup was...

He had no idea_ what_ to do with the cup.

Slowly, he turned his gaze back to the short note beneath his fingers.

_Zane,_

_I can't do this anymore. I need to figure out what I want still, and I can't do that here. I'm asking you, simply, to come. _

_- Jo_

He sighed. So that was what she'd been upset about, what she'd asked. He could kick himself, as her words came rushing back to him in the light of day.

_"You're gonna miss me when I'm gone, Zane."_

It took several minutes, but eventually, the pieces began to fall into place. Everything but the cup. That was the only piece that didn't make sense. Sighing, he open his holograms, to see if any new plans had been sent, but instead, he heard Jo's soft voice.

"Hey Zane." But she wasn't in the room, she was on the video before him, her long dark hair in waves down her back, sitting across from him, an upside down cup- the one at his side- in front of her. She took a deep breath. "I... I'm leaving. I'm leaving Eureka. For good. And I... I asked you yesterday if... if you wanted to come with... but you... never replied. So I... I guess I'm... asking one last time... if not... then, I guess this is the last time I'll ever see you." She licked her lips and held up a finger. "But... before you protest, there's something I have to do, that I have to tell you. So just... listen, okay?"

She took a deep breath, turning her attention to the cup in front of her. Then, she clapped twice, tapped the bottom of the cup three times, clapped once, and then suddenly picked the cup up and moved it to the side before clapping again. She then grabbed it from the side, tapped the bottom on her palm, tapped the rim on his desk, took the cup with her other hand and slapped the top of his desk quickly. She repeated this once more, before her soft mezzo began to caress him.

Zane recognized it as a game the kids at Tesla would play in their free time; Zoe had even been taken with it for a time. He had no idea where Jo picked it up, or when. But she was good, never missing a beat.

_"'I got my ticket for the long way run_  
_Two bottle of whiskey for the way_  
_And I sure would like some sweet company_  
_And I'm leaving tomorrow, what'dya say?'"_

Zane watched, as her fluid movements seemed to blend with the smooth silk of her voice. Her dark eyes went from the cup to him, as fluid as her hands and voice. He sighed, resting his chin on his hands.

_"'When I'm gone_  
_You're gonna miss me when I'm gone_

_You're gonna miss me by my hair_  
_You're gonna miss me everywhere, oh_  
_You're gonna miss me when I'm gone'"_

She was so... calm. How could she be so calm, when she was essentially telling him goodbye? How was it not eating her up inside, tearing her apart, like it was doing to him, as he sat watching and listening to the love of his life sing.

_"'I got my ticket for the long way run_  
_The one with the prettiest of views_  
_It's got mountains_  
_It's got river's_  
_It's got sights to give you shivers_  
_But it sure would be prettier with you'"_

Near the end of the second verse, she looked up at him, never breaking contact. Even as her hands continued to clap, tap and move. Every movement was fluid, a ballet that only he had the priviledge of seeing.

_"'When I'm gone_  
_You're gonna miss me when I'm gone_

_You're gonna miss me by my walk_  
_You're gonna miss me by my talk, oh_  
_You're gonna miss me when I'm gone'"_

She repeated the beginning clapping sequence again, repeating the chorus one last time, before she stopped. Zane watched as she set the cup next to the note, and took a deep breath. "Well, Zane, it's your choice. I'm asking you to come with me. It's your choice. I love you."

Then, he watched her get up and leave. Not long after the door slid closed behind her, the hologram shut itself off. Zane sighed, taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart. He glanced at the cup, and then climbed to his feet, rushing from the office.


	3. With You

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

He looked around; he was working on a hunch. She'd left no identification as to where she would be, but for some reason, Maine had called to him, and so he decided to try there before working back across the United States. He'd tried the cities, before moving through the small towns, and so far, had turned up empty. So that was how he came to be in Bar Harbor, on the shore of the Maine coast, studying a map, and circling the bed and breakfasts. It was highly unlikely that she had her own house, and the B & B's were his best bet.

* * *

Taking a deep breath, he slipped into the small diner. It was quiet, soft conversation and the clinking of silverware or glasses reaching his ears. After a moment, he went to the counter, taking a seat.

"What can I get you?" He looked up.

"Um... just... just a cup of coffee." The waitress came back in a matter of minutes, and took the cash he set in front of her- along with the photograph he'd laid down.

"I know her. That's Ms. Lupo." His head snapped up, as the woman turned back to him.

"What?" She held out the photograph, handing it back to him.

"Ms. Lupo. She's the sheriff for Bar Harbor." Zane's eyes widened.

"Sheriff?" He asked. She nodded.

"Yeah. Why?" He climbed to his feet; dropping a few extra dollars on the counter for her, as he tucked the photograph back into his wallet.

"Where's the police- sheriff's- station exactly?" The woman thought a moment.

"Down on Maple Street. But-" He rushed out of the diner, waving as he called a hasty thank you. She and everyone else watched him disappear.

* * *

"Okay... okay, I'll be there soon, Ky. Bye." She hung up, sticking her phone in her pocket and grabbing her coat before heading out to her car.

She'd been surprised, when she'd been given the position as sheriff- a bittersweet victory without Carter there to listen to her gloat- but not such a surprise, what with Cobb, Mansfield, and Fargo's recommendations. The small Maine town reminded her of Eureka, without the psychotic experiments and geniuses. She thought she'd be bored being the sheriff of a small, normal town, but she'd been anything but- two drug busts, three domestic disputes, a murder and a stalking incident in the last week had kept her on her toes. The only thing that was missing was-

"Mornin' Sheriff."

She stopped, but refused to turn around.

No, it wasn't him. It was just a cruel illusion- her head playing tricks on her, like at the train station. Because she was missing him, she was imagining his voice. Because she was alone in bed at night, her mind had thought of him, to keep her company. The sweet, warm feel of his arms around her at night was a comfort, that faded with the first morning's light. The taste of him was nothing more than a memory-

And so was the feel of his hand on hers.

* * *

"Jojo."

He saw how her simple nickname, coming from his lips, affected her. She went rigid, her back rail straight and her head held high. Slowly, he reached up, running a hand through her ponytail, before trailing down her spine and wrapping around her waist. "I missed you."

* * *

She pulled away, turning. Her eyes had to be decieving her, but as she reached out to lay a hand on his cheek, she realized that this was no deception. He was real, he was here, standing before her. In a pair of dark jeans, one of his tight t-shirts, with a blue button down over it, and a heather grey suit jacket, he looked... beautiful, was the only true way to describe him. That familiar stubble she loved was on his cheeks, and his dark hair was slightly tousled.

Her heart leapt into her throat, and she brushed her fingers down his cheek. "Zane?" He smiled at her, nodding.

"It's me, Jojo."

She took a deep breath, before pulling away. A wave of emotion crossed her face, before she turned and continued walking to her car. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"You helped."

* * *

He watched her stop, saw her freeze, and knew that she was processing what he'd said. Then, slowly, she turned back to him. He could see the fear in her dark eyes, barely obscured by the tears welling. "Jo-"

"I asked you. At Cafe Diem. You didn't respond, so I... I thought you'd... made your choice..." She took a deep breath. He sighed, closing his eyes and swallowing against the anger rising in his blood. It wasn't her fault. He hadn't heard her ask, and when he had, it'd been too late. Thank God she'd made the video. He grabbed her hand, pulling her into his arms. She didn't resist.

"Jo, I didn't hear you that day. I'm sorry. I... I didn't know. I never meant to hurt you. You know that, right?" She nodded, tears sliding down her cheeks.

"How did you know to... find me here?"

He grinned, leaning down and capturing her lips in a deep, thorough kiss. "The song." She looked up at him. "Where did you learn it?" She shrugged.

"Zoe taught me."

* * *

"So, do it again."

"Why don't you do it? I taught it to you, it's not that hard to learn!"

He chuckled. "I can't sing!" She gave an exasperated sigh, turning back to the flames in the fireplace.

"You can too sing. Give me." She snatched the plastic cup out of his hands, and started the rhythm, before following with the lyrics.

_"'I got my ticket for the long way run_  
_The one with the prettiest of views_  
_It's got mountains_  
_It's got rivers_  
_It's got sights to give you shivers_  
_But it sure would be prettier-'"_

He cut her off halfway through the last line of the second verse, capturing her lips. Her hands momentarily stopped their fluid movement, before resuming the rhythm as they broke apart. She grinned at him- a smile he returned.

_"with you."_


End file.
